


Five Times Clint and Natasha Lied About Their Relationship Status (and One Time They Told The Truth)

by Caedmon



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Clint Feels, Clintasha - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Natasha Feels, There's some swearing in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha deal in secrets and lies a lot, and it bleeds over into their personal life. Finally, they cave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Clint and Natasha Lied About Their Relationship Status (and One Time They Told The Truth)

**Author's Note:**

> 10/2/16 - this fic has been getting a lot of attention lately, when it had lay dormant for over a year. I can only assume it's been included on a rec list...if it has, someone please let me know who included it so I can thank them!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!!

_**1) Phil Coulson** _

Strike Team Delta had pulled off a hell of a job this time, Coulson wasn't sure how they'd been able to manage it. Fury hadn’t really expected them to complete the mission fully, he just wanted the initial surveillance done. Eliminating the target was secondary, and Fury expected it would be impossible with two people and no backup or elaborate strike plan. Fury and Coulson had expected them gone for at least six weeks. They’d called for extraction after 34 days, saying the target was eliminated and they had good intelligence on other potential targets. Barton and Romanov. Strike Team Delta. They were the best SHIELD had. Coulson never really liked debriefings, but this one he was looking forward to. 

He hopped out of the jeep a quarter mile from the safe house with the four other members of the extraction team and crept through the jungle. The five agents arrived at the house and Coulson gave the silent hand signals; _secure the perimeter._ Once it was deemed safe, one of the agents unlocked the door and Coulson went in.

He didn't find Clint or Natasha in the main room, so he called out, "Barton! Romanov! Extraction, let's move!" No answer. Coulson crossed the main room of the house, gun drawn, and looked into the kitchen. No one. He crossed the room again and looked into an empty bedroom. The bed was rumpled, but nobody was there. He came to the closed door and - 

There were voices. Water running. A male and female and...was that giggling? It didn't matter if that was a giggle, because _that_ was a moan. _Oh, man. Barton and Romanov?_ Coulson sighed. He should have seen this coming. 

Coulson pounded on the door and raised his voice. "Finish what you're working on in there, agents, we've got a plane to catch."

No more voices, only running water. Coulson smiled ruefully as he walked over to the couch and had a seat, feeling more than a little guilty about ruining their fun. He didn't doubt, however, that they'd make up for it the very next chance they got.

Very soon, the door opened and Clint came out in a towel. Natasha rushed out just behind him, wrapped in a towel and uncharacteristically red, not looking at Coulson, darting into the bedroom and closing the door.

"Sir, this isn't what it looks like."

"I didn't see anything, Barton."

"Thank you, sir."

"I heard it."

To someone who didn’t know Clint very well, he had no visible reaction. Coulson, however, saw the moment of panic cross his face, then the quick recovery. ”Sir, we were checking each other for injuries. We just go ahead and clean up while we check. It gets painful sometimes, and it's hard not to make sound, you know?"

"And the giggling?"

"Well, sir, we have a serious job. Joking with each other eases the tension."

Coulson was trying valiantly not to laugh, pursing his lips and biting the inside of his cheek. 

"There's nothing going on, sir."

"Calm down, Barton, you're not the first two agents to, ahem, check each other for injuries." Coulson finally cracked and snickered. Clint blushed. "Just make sure you're all done checking each other out and ready to go when extraction gets here in future."

"Yes, sir."

_**2) Clint Barton** _

Clint and Natasha sat on the couch in her apartment, lazing after a particularly difficult mission. Clint had propped himself against some pillows in the corner of the couch, and Natasha was sitting cross-legged in the dead-center of the couch with the popcorn bowl in her lap.

"You're hogging that, you know."

"I am not."

"You are, too. See? I can't reach it." He made a pitiful waving motion without moving his body that came nowhere near the bowl. "See that? Nowhere near it." 

Natasha giggled. "Poor baby. I guess I should bring it closer to you so I can share, huh?"

"You really should."

She uncrossed her legs, scooting her bottom back until she was flush against his body, his arm on the back of the couch. She laid her head on his shoulder and put the popcorn bowl on his lap as he brought his arm down to lay comfortably around her. She looked up at him, smiling brightly. "Better?"

Impulsively, he kissed her on the forehead. "Much better."

She beamed up at him, then nuzzled her head into him, watching the movie. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. 

_We are just friends. Nothing more. There is nothing beyond the sex and friendship, no love. We are friends with benefits, buddies, we're pals, we're confidants. It's all platonic, though. There's no romance or love. We're just friends._

_**3) Tony Stark and Bruce Banner** _

Tony had come up with a prototype video game integration system, and asked Bruce to help him beta test it. Bruce agreed, so they headed to the common area. After a couple of tries and no success, they both figured it was some sort of wiring error. Tony was on his hands and knees with his head and shoulders inside the massive entertainment center, Bruce was standing close by, frowning at a component in his hand.

"Tony, I think the problem may be-"

" _YOU DUMB SON OF A BITCH!!_ Did you _SERIOUSLY_ think I wouldn't find out? _Just who the HELL do you think you are_?"

The entertainment center thudded and Tony let out a muffled curse, rubbing his head as he rocked back on his heels. Looking around, there was nobody else in the room, but clearly Natasha was just outside the door with....

"What is it -"

"Don't play dumb with me, Clint. _Don't you dare_!"

Clint. Of course. Who else?

Bruce and Tony exchanged looks. Natasha was clearly angry, but this was an angry Natasha they had never seen before. When one of the other guys pissed her off, Natasha usually got quiet, started brooding. She had never yelled, and they both pitied Clint in this moment.

"Fine. What do you _want_ me to do, Natasha? Since _clearly_ it's all about you and you get to do whatever the hell you want to, and to hell with me. Fuck what I want and fuck what I need. You can keep doing what makes you happy with whoever makes you happy and I can just sit around and wonder like a lost fucking puppy. That's what you _want_ , isn't it?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. What I _want_ is for you to stay the fuck away from me. Don't get near me. I never want to see your face again, you asshole. Don't get near me, _ever_."

There were tears in her voice, and Clint heard them too. He called after her, "Natasha, wait. Nat! _Wait_!" but she had gone.

He stepped into the common room with the heels of both hands to his temples, completely unaware of Bruce and Tony. Clint dropped his fists and made a beeline to the bar, grabbed a bottle of brown liquor at random and poured some into a tumbler. He tossed his head back, drinking it all down and hissing at the burn, then spread his hands wide on the bar and hung his head. Bruce and Tony looked at one another, questioning looks on each other's faces, silently daring the other to make the first move.

"God _damn_ you, Natasha!" Clint swept his arm across the bar and the tumbler, bottle, and shakers went flying. The pretzel bowl flipped, sending chex mix sailing in all directions like salty fireworks.

Clint made a sound suspiciously like a sob and turned back towards the door, sitting on the barstool and bringing his fists to his forehead. Tony made a slight, tiny throat-clearing sound and Clint's head snapped up.

"You okay there, Birdie?"

Clint closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. "Yeah. I'm good. Sorry about the mess."

"No sweat. So, uh, relationship problems?"

Clint leaned his head back to look at the ceiling, blinking a few times. He blew out his breath, puffing out his cheeks, then stood. He looked at Tony and Bruce and gave them a bitter, terrible smile. "You heard the lady. There is no relationship."

_**4) Natasha Romanov** _

Natasha woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs. She rolled over and saw that Clint was missing; could he be making breakfast? That's not possible, Clint hates getting up early. She usually had to pry him off of her every morning, then poke, prod and shake him for ten minutes before he'd even roll over and complain. What on earth?

She tied her robe and padded into her kitchen. "Clint? Are you okay? What's going on?"

"Aww, I was hoping to surprise you."

"In bed?"

"Yeah."

"But...why?"

"Well, you may not remember, but today is the anniversary of the day I made a different call. So I wanted to do something to show you just how glad I am, just how damned glad I am because I wouldn't have my best friend if I hadn't."

Natasha was brought up short. He was making _her_ feel special on the anniversary of the day he saved _her_ life? Shouldn't it be her showering _him_ with gratitude?

"I made you French toast, you said one time that you liked it. I hope it's okay, I haven't made it in years. I made bacon and eggs too in case it sucks."

She just looked at him, blank, not knowing what to do or say. Natasha looked down at the food then looked back up at him. Her lips pursed and her eyes were bright with tears. 

"Aww, Nat, please don't cry." He put down the spatula and pulled her close. "I'm sorry, okay? It was a bad idea, and I'm sorry. It brought up bad memories. I was just trying to-"

"No, no, it's not that. It's not that at all." She sniffled against his chest. "It's just that, I can't believe you did all of this for me. Just because you're glad I'm around."

He pushed her away from him gently so he could look at her, brushing a tear away with his thumb. "How could I not be glad you're around? You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Tasha."

The tears spilled over again and he pulled her into his broad chest. Natasha stood there, arms wrapped around her best friend's waist, smelling bacon, French toast, and his woodsy-musky scent, and talked to herself.

_You are not in love with him, Natasha Romanov. He is your best friend. You are not head over heels crazy for this man, you're just confused. You're not in love with Clint Barton, Natasha. You’re not._

_**5) Tony Stark (again)** _

"When are you going to admit it?"

"Admit what?"

Natasha was in the communal kitchen, cleaning up from a group dinner they'd all shared. Clint had just left, leaving her alone until Tony had come in to lean beside the dishwasher she was loading.

"Admit that you and Birdie are dating."

Natasha didn't stop loading the dishwasher, didn't even look up. "We're not."

Tony snorted. "You can't bullshit a bullshitter. And I, my friend, am the king of bullshitters."

She rolled her eyes and looked at him. "Tony, when would we have _time_ to go on dates? More than that, do Clint and I seem like the dinner-and-a-movie type?"

"Semantics. You two are a couple."

Natasha rolled her eyes again and then dismissed him, turning back to the dishes. "No. We're just good friends and partners."

"I don't think so."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, not looking his way. "Why would you think I'm lying?"

"Well, there are several reasons." Tony put up one finger and pushed his opposite forefinger against it. "One, I've never seen 'good friends' that spent as much time together as you two do."

She smirked and put a glass on the top rack. "If that's all you got, you're in sad shape, Stark. We're just so used to each other..."

"I'm not even close to done. Two," he put up a second finger and touched it with his forefinger, "all the accidental touches, and sitting so close together. Seriously, guys, leave room for Jesus."

Natasha laughed uncomfortably. "We're just really comfortable together. There aren't any secrets between he and I."

"Three, the way the two of you look at each other could set a room on fire. Nuns have impure thoughts looking at you two exchanging glances."

"That's - "

"Four, when we take Clint to the bar, he never talks to any other women. Not when they come over and flirt with him, and some of them don't take the hint well. Not even when I bring one over - hot girls, mind you - and try to pique his interest. He's gotten downright rude a couple of times."

Natasha struggled to keep her expression bland as she rinsed a bowl and loaded it, considering her words. "I don't see what that has to do with me, we're _just friends_."

"If you were just friends, you wouldn't have looked smug when I told you that."

 _Shit._ "I didn't look-"

"How about your necklace? It's an arrow. Sporting your man's mark, yeah?"

She abandoned the dishes, turning to her left to face Tony, grabbing the dish towel and putting her hand to her hip. "He's not -"

"And then the crown jewel in my collection of evidence..." Natasha tensed. "What kind of friends spend the night together every night?"

Natasha went perfectly still. "How do you know where we sleep?"

"Jarvis? Where are the Avengers right now?"

"Sir, Captain Rogers and Thor are in the game room, Dr. Banner is in the lab, Mr. Barton is in Ms. Romanov's apartment on her floor, and Ms. Romanov is with you in the communal kitchen."

"Thank you, Jarvis." Tony looked at her smugly.

She crossed her arms. "So you keep track of us? That's not creepy at all."

"No, I noticed you two were shacking up when I would be working on something and would look for Bruce late at night or early in the morning. Eventually I would ask Jarvis about you two just to satisfy my curiosity. After six weeks of you being at his place or him being at your place every time I thought to check...that's not 'just friends'. That's his-and-hers towels."

Natasha glared daggers. "Yes it is 'just friends'. We have seen and done terrible things in our jobs, and it's easier to sleep near someone for when the nightmares come. That's all."

"Whatever, Romanov. One day you'll admit out loud what we all already know. You and Birdie are in love. It's cool, I'll get it out of you eventually."

Tony turned and left the room, smirking at the fact he'd rattled her but irritated that she'd not confessed. Natasha finished up quickly and left to tell Clint.

_**+1 - The Truth** _

Every couple weeks or so, all of the Avengers would try to get together just to blow off steam. This usually turned into a MarioKart tournament fueled by alcohol, salty snacks and shit-talking, but everyone had a good time. 

Bruce was racing Thor and beating him badly. Sam and Steve sat nearby, egging one or the other of the racers on. Clint and Natasha were on the couch, ostensibly watching, but much more engaged in each other than the game. Tony watched them carefully from the corner of his eye for a few minutes, observing them smiling, ducking their heads towards each other. Clint appeared to whisper something in her ear and Natasha made a sound suspiciously like a giggle. When Clint's hand ever so subtly touched her shoulder - just a light brush of skin - Tony called out, "Jarvis, pause it." 

"Hey! What was that about, Tony?" 

"Yeah, Tony, I was winning!" 

Tony never took his eyes off of Clint and Natasha, who were looking back at him. Natasha was expressionless, Clint had an eyebrow raised, as if challenging Tony. "I paused the game because I wanted to call these two out in front of an audience. Show of hands. Who here has seen Birdie and Nat acting like more than friends?" 

No one raised their hands, but Thor answered. "I have long speculated of a romance between Hawkeye and Natasha." 

"It's really none of my business." 

"Mine either." 

Tony snapped at Bruce and Steve. "Oh, give it a rest. Your Scout leader won't take your badge away for telling the truth." 

Bruce squirmed a bit. "Yeah, I've thought they were a couple for a while." 

Steve sighed. "Me, too." 

Sam put both hands up. "Don't drag me into this, man." 

Tony rolled his eyes and turned back to Clint and Natasha. She had one eyebrow raised, his smirk was almost predatory. "So, Birdie. It's time to fess up. Natasha wouldn't spill, but the jig is up. The Black Widow is your girlfriend, isn't she?" 

"No." 

"Dammit, Clint! We all know-" 

Clint cocked a smile, draped his arm around Natasha and interrupted: "She's not my girlfriend. We got married a couple years ago. She's my wife." 


End file.
